Bruised Knees
by Fantasism
Summary: Flora was no longer the proper young lady, but Clive was a gentleman, and a proper gentleman always gave into the demands of his lady. Rated M for smut. R&R! Clive/Flora


A/n: I haven't posted anything in a while, and I just got the new PL game-and am I the only one mad that Flora's not in yet another game? And Clive; whatever happened to him? C'mon, gimmie something to work with. But enough with my rantings.  
Warnings: Heed the M rating. This is NSFW, as there is smut, language, etc..  
Disclaimer: I own nothing, except for the idea of an unladylike Flora.

Bruised Knees:

Flora Reinhold was not, as the Professor put it, a proper young lady.

Now don't get her wrong-she certainly used to be. Back when she was fourteen and locked in a tower, and back when the Professor and Luke would continually take her on their adventures with them. Alas, loneliness takes it's toll on even the absolute most ladylike, and so the "New Flora," as Luke so affectionally put it, came to be.

So it really was no surprise that, when Clive got out of prison and came to Hershel Layton's home, asking for a place to stay, she became instantly attracted to him.

She was seventeen at the time, and, oh dear, how she was interested in boys. Luke was only the tender age of fifteen, and besides, he was more like a brother than anything else. And the males at school didn't meet her fancy, either. But Clive... He was different.

She didn't like him at first-in fact, he loathed him. She hated him for taking advantage of her trusting nature when she had been younger, hated that he had turned out to be nothing but a vengeful liar. But staying for a night became staying for two, and then a week, and then a month. And now, well, he just lived with them. The Professor didn't mind, as forgiveness was in his nature, and Luke had been slightly suspicious, but Clive had soon taken on the big-brother role for the younger boy. Eventually, Flora was the only one with any cynical feelings towards him.

He'd apologized plenty, and everyone else forgave him, but damn it, they weren't the ones kidnapped! She deserved her adversity. What she didn't deserve was this dumb attraction towards him. She dreamed about him constantly, and even found herself thinking of him in the daytime. It seemed she could not get away from this captivation. It haunted her constantly.

Then, one night, he'd knocked on her door and asked to come in. It had been rather late, and she had just been in the middle of one of those dreams involving him. Needless to say, she wanted nothing to do with him at that moment.

She'd told him off pretty well then, talking in angry, harsh whispers for fear of waking anyone else. And he'd simply taken it, nodding every so often. When she ran out of things to say, she crossed her arms and looked at him expectantly.

And he just took her hand, kissed her palm, and said, "I'm so sorry."

A pool of heat had gathered in her stomach and her ears became red, so she ripped her limb away from him and shut the door in his face.

Still, that became the night she really forgave him.

She told him so the next day, and he smiled to brightly, she feared she'd go blind. And when he opened his arms for a hug, she could do no more than step into his embrace, pressing the length of her body against him, and feeling warm all over. He had buried his head in the crook of her neck, thanking her. But she could feel his breath on the sensitive skin there, and wondered if he was doing this on purpose. Making her want him.

For awhile, it seemed he only had innocent intentions towards her. He treated her special, though, worrying about her often and voicing his concerns. When the Professor and Luke left them to solve some sort of mystery, as per usual, he took care of her.

(Though she claimed she didn't need it-she was seventeen, damn it.)

For that week, all they had was each other. They spoke a lot, about their painful pasts and their hopeful futures. And she soon found out she wasn't just attracted to him, she actually liked him.

That in itself was kind of terrifying. She'd never had a crush before.

So she watched him, thinking that if she observed him enough, she could find out if he had the same feelings for her. And though she couldn't read him, though she wasn't sure, she became impatient and kissed him one fine day.

He'd been shocked, to say the least, but soon he kissed her back.

That was the start of their relationship.

They both agreed to keep it from the others (Clive was eight years her senior, and the Professor may forgive him, but he certainly wouldn't approve.), and so secret kisses and caresses became a constant in their lives, and things she looked foward to everyday.

But today they didn't have to keep secrets. The house was empty, but for the two of them, and Flora wanted something, and she was going to get it.

The Professor had always pushed abstinence upon her, but good grief, she was in love, so it was alright.

All she needed was Clive to agree. Which, really, hadn't been all that difficult.

So here they were.

She lay with her back flat on her bed, Clive hovering over her. Her small hands rested on his shoulders, and he used one of his own to hold himself up, the other brushing her bangs away from her

face, giving her a soft smile. She returned it, but her palms sweated. She didn't expect to be this nervous.

Leaning down, he kissed her sweetly. This was okay, she was used to more intense kisses, but she was glad for the gentleness. Briefly, she wondered if he was just as scared as she was.

Maybe.

He pulled away and pressed his lips to her forehead, and then to her cheek. She grinned, knowing she was safe and protected here, in his arms. She buried her fingers through his hair as he moved lower, kissng her pulse below her jaw, and then the side of her neck.

He kept his attention there as he ever so slowly began unbuttoning her blouse. This was also okay, but he breathing got a bit heavier.

He glanced up at her, stopping all actions. "Are you alright?"

She shrugged, and he didn't look convinced. "Flora, do you want to continue?"

Flora bit her lip, and then nodded twice with certainty. He smiled at her once more, kissing her lips quickly. "Relax," he soothed.

She did her best to do so, and then her shirt was off and she was exposed. She wanted to cover herself, but moreso, she wanted his shirt off as well.

She didn't want to ask, so she untangled her fingers from his hair and pulled the hem of his shirt, silently requesting.

He chuckled at her, and she pouted because it felt like he was teasing her. He nipped her protruding lower lip, and leaned back before she could initiate any sort of kiss beyond that. Shucking off his shirt, he leaned back over her, pressing their chests together.

This was... very nice. She liked this. She liked his warmth. And when his hands came down and his thumbs caressed the sides of her breasts, she liked that, too. To show, she arched her back, wanting more.

He slanted his lips against hers, fingers dancing over her bust. She was a little self-concience (compared to other girls her age, she was lacking in that department), but Clive seemed to enjoy himself. When his fingers ran over her nipples, she gasped, sharp nails raking up his back.

He let out a shuddering breath that Flora found incredably arousing. His lips moved from hers, down her neck, and to her collar bones, licking and biting at them. She almost preferred this to the gentleness from before.

His hands went to her skirt, finding the zipper on the side and pulling it down ever so slowly. He brought his head up and looked into her eyes, as if asking for premission, to which she nodded. He pulled the article of clothing off hee legs and then stared at her.

She fidgeted under his gaze. It wasn't as though she was uncomfortable, but... she didn't have the best body. She knew that. The way he was looking at her though...

"You're so beautiful," he murmured. "I'm so lucky to have you. I love you, Flora."

She giggled at him. "You're only saying that because I'm naked," she teased. And teasing felt good. Natural.

Lust filled his eyes. "Not yet," he said.

And the nerves kicked in. Before, they'd kept everything above the waist, but now...

His fingers hooked around the waistband of her underwear. "Okay?" he asked.

"Y-you still have pants on," she mentioned.

"So I do," he hummed. "Care to help me out of them?"

Hands shaking, she reached out for his belt buckle, which was way too complicated to undo. Eventually, she succeeded, but then the button of his pants were too stubborn. And the whole time he just watched her with this unreadable expression.

The button evetually came undone, and his zipper pulled down. Her fingers were trembling so much, so she stopped there. He smiled at her, and pulled his pants the rest of the way off.

Now they both sat in their underwear. "Can I?" he asked, motioning to hers. She nodded, but the nerves were back in full force. Slowly, he pulled the garment down her thighs, and then off her legs.  
His hands pressed against the insides of her thighs, spreading them. She blushed-she'd never been this exposed before. His fingers danced higher and higher, until-

"Oh!" she found herself moaning. He smirked at her. A finger was now inside her, pressing against her moist, inner walls. Her body squeeed around it. It wasn't uncofortable; just strange.

Clive leaned back, admiring her and keeping her legs spread. Her back was arched, mouth open and realeasing little gasps. He inserted another finger, and she panted. He felt his pants become tighter at the sounds and the view. He wedged his hips between her thighs, aking sure they stayed apart, and used his now free hand to press on the skin below her stomach.

Her reaction was immediate. She let out a loud moan and wiggled her hips, trying to get away and trying to get closer. She was lovely, to say the least. And unbelievably sexy at the moment.

Usually, in bed, Clive was greedy. With all his past partners, he took and gave pleasure quickly, never spending too much time on foreplay and the like. But Flora was different. He loved her and this was her first time. He'd be damned if it wasn't special.

Lowering his head, he kissed the center of her chest before poking his tongue out and running it down her body. She shivered, and he watched as her hands grabbed the sheets beside her head. By the time he got to her bellybutton, she was positively dripping. He removed his fingers, giving her what he hoped was a smoldering looked before offering them to her, pressing them against her lips. "Suck."

She looked hesitant, but opened her mouth just wide enough so that he could slide his fingers against her tongue. She sucked, wrapping her muscle lovingly around each digit, and his cock twitched as he imagines that tongue around something else.

When he was satisfied, he removed his fingers from her mouth and used both hands to hold her thighs. Moving down, he kissed the inside of her right lovingly, then breathed over her core before doing the same to her left. He made a little sound, then whimpered, "Stop teasing me, Clive."

That got him going. Nails digging into the soft skin of her legs, he licked her center from bottom to top and as she let out a shuddering, wanton moan. Encouaged, he took one hand from her thigh and used his fingers to spread her lower lips, and then thrusted his tongue into her.

Her fingers shot to his hair, pulling the chesnut strands tightly as she let out gasps and squeaks that he found absolutely precious. He licked her insides, occasionally going up to suck at her clit.

She cried out loudly, body tensing for a few seconds before it fell limp. Her hands fell from his head as she gasped for breath, simply saying, "Wow."

Clive grinned, rather pleased with himself. "Ready for the main event, dear?"

A flash of worry glinted in her eyes, but then she nodded with determination. He removed his underwear then, and watched as Flora looked at him with comical wide eyes, gaze bolting to his face, to his member, and then up again. "Don't worry," he soothed. "I'll be gentle."

"You better be," she said wryly, and Clive couldn't help but laugh.

He kissed her lips then, slowly and lovingly, trying to show how much he adored her through it. He took her hand and entangled their fingers, pressing hers to the bedsheets by her head. With his other hand, he grasped himself, and pressed to her entrance.

"G-go on," she said when he didn't move, breaking away from the kiss. He nodded then, and pushed all the way in.

She cried out, this time in pain, and Clive felt his heart clench. He loathed hurting her, but being quick was the only proper way to go about this to make it better for her. He saw tears well up in her eyes, and he kissed them away, shushing her and pressing his lips against any part of her that he could reach.

"Sh, it's alright," he comforted.

After a few moments, Flora wriggled around. "You going to move, or what?" she mocked, and Clive grinned, happy she was no longer in pain.

Just to be safe, he started out with slow shallow thursts. She was so tight, felt so good on his neglected member. He feared he'd come soon.

With Flora's free hand, she clutched on to his back and whispered, "Faster," into his ear. He obliged, loving the feeling of her nails breaking into his skin. He thrusted into her deeply, quickly, her sounds encouraging him.

Eventually, however, all good things must come to an end, and he felt release coming upon him fast. With one last, "I love you," murmured into her ear, he came hard, white spots bursting out from behind his lids.

He fell to his side to avoid crushing her, both of them panting, out of breath. She turned over and smiled at him, brushing his sweaty bangs away from his face and he smiled back.

"Thank you, Flora," he said genuinely.

She shrugged. "Spend the rest of the night here?"

"The Professor and Luke should be back tomorrow."

Flora shook her head. "I don't care. Just hold me."

He grinned. "A gentleman always does as a lady asks.

A/n: So how was it? Gimmie feedback.


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